i don't need love, that shit is so, so petty. - aboogie.
omniscient.
Nasir twisted and turned in the arms of another man, as she basked in the warmth provided by his comforting embrace.
The pair layed sprawled out against the plush mattress of his new bed, in his new apartment. His chest rose up and down in a sequential pattern as he remained in his deep slumber whilst the girl before him watched him sleep.
He wasn't Forty, but he was like Forty, very, very like Forty. Yet instead his skin was coated with a deep, velvety brown like that of dark chocolate and his eyes were that similar rich colour, and whenever they were opened they appeared as dark as the midnight sky; with a twinkle that resembled the everlasting stars that never once faded away.
An Adonis of a man, with a past darker than his dewy, melanted skin.
Do you know who I the omniscient speak of?
An essential piece that'll finish the puzzle, remember when he said he had to get her... well two can play at that game.
A game of fools,
And kings,
And queens;
Yet it seems
he wasn't kin to them,
Maybe a forgotten friend.
Instead kin to another,
and that man his brother.
Similar in charm,
With the same tatted arms...
Tell me who I speak of.
- chapter five : the start to new beginnings, 'don't touch the fire if you can't handle the heat'.
A key protocol forgotten by a young and lost Nasir. She was due to be burned, but let's save that for chapter forty, or shall I reveal-
*
"Heezy?" Cairo called out, as he saw him leant up against the brick wall outside the corner shop.
"What you sayin'?" Heezy greeted the younger, dapping him up before returning back to sending messages on his burner phone.
"Why'd you have a brick?" A naive Cairo asked, referring to the outdated Nokia that resided in the 15 year olds hand.
Heezy only chuckled in response, before lazily mumbling the words 'for business'.
Cairo's ear perked up at this, he saw the nice clothes Heezy always rocked and knew that he was making good money from this business. He wondered if it was the same business his older brothers were involved in, after all Heezy and them were friends.
"Put me on," the 13 year old said, hopefully.
Heezy looked at the boy with a raised brow, Cairo stood at a good 5'7 to Heezy's 5'10. The chuckle that fell from his mouth angered Cairo, why wasn't Heezy taking bum seriously?
"Nah, g..." Heezy started, "You're not built for this lifestyle."
And although the words were harmless on Heezy's account they still pierced through Cairo's heart and bruised his ego every bit. That's why he walked around with a hatred for Forty every day, and even on those many days the two rolled around as they got older, he always remember those six words you're not built for this lifestyle.
Well neither was Heezy.
It had taken Heezy forty days and forty nights to recover from that one unspoken tragedy, and though nobody spoke on it: for months every one knew. And on that same night, YK was born, Young Kari, Young Killer. Who followed in the footsteps of his elder brothers, because all his life he only aimed to make his older siblings proud.
*
He resided inside an old, and abandoned house named the bando. He stood over the pot, situated on the kitchen stove as he watched the white concoction simmer. That was the powder he sold to fiends that craved that same drunk and allowed it to lead them into a world of delusion and insanity.
He supplied it to them with no remorse, ignorant to the fact that it was the same drug that killed his mother. That was something his brothers didn't know, naive to the fact that their birth giver snorted the product his encaged father sold, relentlessly.
His brothers believed a fantasy, that their father had killed their mother. And of course he did make her reach her demise indirectly, yet the story went a different way than how his siblings imagined.
This story went a different way than how you readers imagined.
His mother perished because of the white drug that she adored so heavily, the same adoration was able to disguise do well. With every pack of it she stole, their father missed out on money, money that he always counted. And when he started to notice his money coming short, he never once suspected his wife. His dear Kesabel would never do him dirty like that. Then on that one day when he'd caught her sprawled out on their king sized bed, with white powder resembling powder underneath her slender nose he knew...yet on that day it was too late to save the estranged woman because she was already long, long gone.
The sins of their father killed their sinning mother,
who was soft as powder,
and loved that drug
more than her sons
all thanks to their father;
who lived with the guilt
of tainting his sons
and their mum
for life.
- who's the brother that I speak of?
H-- Ysan Umar.
*
Very, very short chapter. 890 words
I'll be so real, when I say that I actually have writers block.
And I'll be so real when I say that this book needs severe editing and chapter fixing; so I might make another version because I-
Vote, comment.
Excuse mistakes.
Felt cute, might delete this book later x.
- taimoni.